


The Ordinary Panacea

by PuzzleRaven



Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow, The Ordinary Princess - M.M. Kaye
Genre: Dark, F/F, Fairy Tale Style, Psychological Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 05:25:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16737943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuzzleRaven/pseuds/PuzzleRaven
Summary: In Brockton Bay, a newly-adopted girl is gifted a fairytale book to help comfort her as she adjusts to her new family. It gets worse ever after.





	The Ordinary Panacea

**The Ordinary Panacea**

When Amy was six for the second time, her Aunt Sarah gave her a book. Up in her room under the covers, she read about the princess with six perfect older sisters, all golden-haired and beautiful. About the wistful princess with the brown curls and freckles, in a purple dress and a crown too big for her. The princess blessed with ordinary, who climbed down the wisteria to have adventures while her perfect royal parents held court and her perfect royal sisters played with their solid golden ball in the gardens.

For the first time in a year, Amy fell asleep smiling, still clutching the book.

~

When Amy was seven she crept out of the window for the first time, onto the branch of the old pine that grew by her window. It was no wisteria, but it would do for an adventure. The squirrels came to her hands. Peanut butter on bread was a good lure, and she petted and stroked them. She did try to hold one, but that didn't go like the story.

"Amy, it could have been rabid!" Carol scolded. Amy wouldn't tell them what had bitten her or how it had happened, so for six weeks she had to suffer the painful rabies shots and then, for three more months, the disapproving glares of Queen Carol. She kept feeding the squirrels away. Totally worth it.

~

When she was eight she embarked on her first big adventure, climbing to the top of the trees by Captain's Hill while her mother was away. That was when she met her first foreign Princess. Dark haired, dark eyed, and sophisticatedly older then even her golden-haired sister, she brought to Amy's mind words the adults didn't think she knew yet, like louche and jejune and deshabille which sounded delightfully daring even if she didn't quite know what they meant.

She admired her so long from the tree branches that, perfect lips curving, the princess murmured an accusation that Amy was a 'fraidy cat. Amy shook her head and asserted that she had climbed all the way up the old pine that towered over them both. The girl agreed that was not something 'fraidy cats did, in a tone that might even have been fond, and suggested that if Amy was really not scared then she should come down to meet her father, the visiting King. Amy told her she didn't go with strangers, but she would ask her mother, as courtly etiquette must be followed. Then she heard Aunt Sarah calling for her, and when she looked round the other Princess had gone.

~

When she was twelve she found her adoption papers. It was something of a relief. It certainly made more sense than a fairy godmother making her different from her family. Even in a world of capes, she had to draw the line somewhere. She also found out she was thirteen, not twelve, but adjusting a birth date to hide an identity she could understand. Her real name was Amelia, Princess Amelia, she delighted in being, who crawled out of windows and fed birds and tore her dress in the garden.

And when Queen Carol shouted at her about the duties of heroes' families and how much more responsible she should be, Amy forgave her and carried on as she had been. After all, her mother was royal. How could Carol understand Amy, when she was ordinary?

~

When she was officially thirteen, her powers came to her. As her sister drew breath, alive again as the gunshots healed, she worried. Did this mean she wasn't ordinary, that she was just like the rest of her family and she'd have to go out and be public and royal and boring? The book gave her some comfort. She didn't fly, or fire lasers, or make forcefields. She healed people, just like doctors did. It was really a very ordinary power, the type that could help her meet a prince posing as a footman, although medical students were more common than footmen in hospitals and might even be acceptable to Carol even before her mother found out they were really a prince.

"I'd like purple," she said, when they asked what costume she wanted. Her family didn't understand. New Wave wore white, Victoria wore white and she didn't even have powers yet, so Amy would wear white. Aunt Sarah wore white and purple, so Amy would wear something different. It was decided for her, and it even covered her too-ordinary face and the hair that didn't match New Wave. Amy didn't care too much. If no one remembered her face, she could still be ordinary.

~

When Amy was fourteen, her sister came into her own royal inheritance. Glorious as the rest of the family, she joined them in the air, a gold tiara on her brow to denote her rank. Amy could hardly take her eyes from her, though the short skirt seemed almost improper. In her daydreams, Amy pictured Victoria in a flowing dress, hair blowing freely in the breeze, playing with a golden ball in the garden as Princesses were supposed to. Then she thought about the damage Glory Girl could do with a solid golden ball and wished she was old enough to drink.

Her sister was beautiful, intelligent, smart, accomplished and had boundless enthusiasm. The last caused the problems. A princess-carry normally wasn't done by the princess in the tales, but it meant she was being Princess-carried by her Princess to rescue her Princess from trouble her Princess had caused, and she got her sister out of trouble, so it was fine by her.

~

When Amy was unofficially fifteen, her sister found her prince. It was hard to accept, but Amy grinned and smiled and choked on her feelings because fairy-tale princesses always met their princes, although usually with more happy ever after and less splitting up and throwing things. She settled for glaring at Dean and making quiet plans for if he turned out to be Bluebeard and not Prince Charming.

And leaning out of the window, feeding acorns to the squirrels, she wondered wistfully where her Prince was and if her happy-ever-after would be as credit-rating-dependant as her sister's.

~

When Amy was unofficially sixteen, the Dragon came to Brockton Bay. Flooding the city in storm, not fire, it had no more mercy than its legendary cousin. As she healed and healed and healed and failed, she couldn't stop the thought that this was her fault, that if she had found her Prince sooner, there would not have been need for a Dragon in the tale at all.

Her sister's prince passed under her hands, and she flinched as she saw her sister's fingers tighten on the stretcher, steel bending with a creak. In what tales did the dragon kill the prince? Perhaps he wasn't a real prince after all. She'd never found him charming, but she wasn't being fair. Prince or not, he had been a hero.

~

When she was still sixteen, still reeling, still hurting, the bandits came to her shattered town. Their leading knave so casually confident had dark eyes and a smile like knives, but from the shudder in her spine she knew this was not her Prince. And she ran, to hide, to think, to the tree on Captain's Hill, to be met by the fond mockery of 'scaredy cat'. Most unroyally-clad, in tatters and tears with pink streaks in her hair, she was still an older princess than Amy, but not so much older as she had seemed. She mocked, told Amy she was not her pick. Amy asserted that she would always be hers. The Princess smiled cruelly, asserted that if she were not making Amy feel things, Amy would run. Amy thought this was nonsense.

She tore down her top, bared flesh that was marked with the most hideous curse Amy had ever seen. Pulsing as she breathed, two grotesque things that might have been women were arrayed on her skin twisted and flagrante, ridged and raised to seem real, their obscenity described in words that boiled on the skin. The images were raised, scarred, and made her sick to look at. The Princess' back was worse.

And Amy did not care. She did not look or think and moved, walked up, and kissed her Princess. Her initial trembling curiosity gave way, her head tilted back as her Princess deepened the kiss. Amy forgot fear, forgot restraint, forgave everything but her Princess. Her own power reached out, let her feel the other's body as if it were her own, travelling from her fingertips to the brain. Long-dead neurons repaired themselves, flaring to life as she adjusted things, shared what she felt with her new Princess and made it real. As the kiss broke she saw her own obsession reflected in the dark eyes.

"They said you were a healer. They never said you were beautiful." Amy's hand tightened on her shoulder but there was no stress, no lie in the words, and she buried her head in the Princess's neck.

"What did you do to me? I feel, I feel..." The Princess' voice trailed off, a possessive smirk on her lips. "I feel." She tasted the word, her bare skin still pressed to Amy's. The obscene curse felt as if it were in Amy's own skin and she rejected it. It warped, broke before her as flesh changed at her demand, until a vine of roses trailed over the fresh skin, a single bloom of blood under each raised thorn, the fanged purple blooms deceptively poised. Amy's Princess trailed fingers over her own arms, wonderingly, smeared a single drop of blood and watched it fade and swell anew. The next kiss was long, enduring, promising that they would never part.

"What's your name?" Amy asked, entranced by the glitter of dark eyes.

"Cherie." Amy smiled. Close enough.

~

And Princess Amy returned to her home where, as her Princess had warned her, she found the golden-haired ensorcelled child, and her sculpted servants, surrounding the crippled King. As her Princess held the child's arms, Amy touched her hands, found all the things that should not be in a child and grew them free. Amy's new sister screamed and pleaded and begged, but Amy forced the vileness to burrow out through wounds that split and healed and left a pile that bleed and stank on the floor.

When she was done, a golden-haired little girl newly adopted to the family, sat happily on King Mark's lap as he welcomed his new daughter and Amy's new Princess to the family. And as a centaur made of brute and prophet nuzzled Amy's feet adoringly, Princess Riley stated that she was very sorry for the trouble she had caused under her curse, and she could even return Duke Neil and Earl Eric and even Victoria's Prince Charming, though she would make some adjustments to Dean so Amy could tolerate him better. And they agreed that the new little Princess' old family would be no trouble at all, for they had a plague and she had DNA samples from all of them.

~

And Princess Amy and Princess Cherie held their court in Brockton Bay, and ruled fairly and wisely. The people all loved them, their city a home for many wise species and wonderful creations, and they lived happily ever after.

Until the day the morning dawned Gold.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this is a love letter to M.M. Kaye's "The Ordinary Princess". It may be more fairytale than Worm, but then Hans Christian Anderson didn't believe in happy ever after either.


End file.
